Work It On Out
by ChelsaOfBakerStreet
Summary: Greg Lestrade has had a long day at work, but coming home to find Mycroft fresh from a workout makes it all worth it.


Greg had had one hell of a day and wanted nothing more than to collapse on his couch. Well, their couch, which was something Greg was still getting used to. He had moved in with Mycroft a few weeks prior to the Kingston case and was still adjusting to once again sharing his space with someone else.

The divorce with Julie had been messy and long, leaving Greg with only a few pieces of furniture, half the bank account, and little dignity. Then along had came Mycroft Holmes and Greg wasn't sure who had been more surprised over that, himself or Sherlock, the latter of which had refused to work on cases for two weeks until Mrs Holmes herself had intervened, getting quite cross with all of them for acting so childish.

Soon after that altercation and a series of murders leading up to Mr Kingston's death, Mycroft proposed that Greg should come live in his flat so that they could both have easier access to one another.

He made it through the door and was about to collapse, coat, files, and all, on the leather sofa when he heard Mycroft's soft voice floating in from the room he kept the exercise equipment in. Greg leaned over a bit so that he could see down the hall and felt his mouth go dry. Mycroft was facing him, but looking at the floor distractedly, leaving Greg time to fully appreciate him.

Mycroft had one leg hooked over the other, his long, lean legs were outlined by tight jogging pants that made them look impossibly lengthy. His arms stood out in the black shirt he was wearing, as it hugged Mycroft's lithe form. Greg barely noticed the sound of the files dropping out of his arm and onto the carpet. His coat fell to the floor quickly as he moved silently forward, stalking into the room.

"Sherlock you can't possibly believe that after everything you have done that I would ever venture in helping you out again." Mycroft sighed, tapping his fingers on the chair arm.

Mycroft suddenly found himself surprised and with a lap full of Gregory who quickly snatched the mobile from Mycroft's hand. "Sherlock, do be a dear and bugger off, your brother is currently occupied."

Greg ended the call and tossed the phone upon the carpet before turning his full attention back to the man he was currently perched upon.

"Gregory, that was important," Mycroft tutted, arching his eyebrows.

Greg leaned in to kiss him. "Sherlock can wait," he murmured, working off his tie. "There are more important things to do."

"Gregory, if I may ask, what spurred this on?" Mycroft licked his lips and Greg raised his hands to cup Mycroft's face, kissing him deeply before pulling back.

"Christ Myc, you sitting her in joggings, looking every bit sexy, I couldn't help myself." Greg slid his hand down Mycroft's throat, undoing the half zip to the shirt before leaning down to suck at the skin, salty from the drying sweat.

"I-" Mycroft's voice broke as Greg lapped at the hollow of his throat. "I had no idea that you would be so, affected by my vestments."

Greg let out a soft groan, claiming Mycroft's mouth. "Vestments, Christ," he mumbled against Mycroft's lips as he worked his belt loose.

Mycroft slipped a hand up Greg's back, pulling his shirt from his trousers, using the other one to palm Greg roughly, leaning up to kiss him as Greg groaned into his mouth.

Greg stood long enough to kick his shoes off in opposite directions, pushing down his work trousers and pants, watching as Mycroft slid off the joggings, showing nothing underneath.

"I could _devour _you right now," Greg groaned, moving back into Mycroft's lap, "but I'm going to ride you instead." Greg felt the thrilled shiver run through the man beneath him, Mycroft's stiff cock pressing against Greg's leg.

Greg gulped in air as Mycroft's long fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking slowly, thoughtfully. "You are rather gorgeous Gregory, I think I'll allow it." A smirk turned up the corner of Mycroft's mouth as he slipped his hand a bit faster on Greg's prick, his other hand gripping Greg's leg tightly.

It took every ounce of willpower Greg possessed to push Mycroft's hand away, gritting out a "not yet," at the man.

And oh was that a pout forming on Mycroft's lips? Greg would just have to kiss that away. So he did, leaning in and capturing Mycroft's mouth, pressing Mycroft's lips open with his own as he swept his tongue around Mycroft's mouth, tasting coffee lingering on his tongue.

Greg pulled away to bend and grab his trousers, searching for the condom and lube packet that had already come in handy once at the office. He paused, thinking back to the image of Mycroft spread out on his desk, Greg pounding into him as they both fought to muffle their noises.

Greg shook his head and renewed his interest in the search, sitting back in Mycroft's lap victorious, foil packets in hand.

"My, my Gregory, you do come prepared." Mycroft drawled lazily, tugging on his own cock languorously.

It was Greg's turn to smirk as he leaned in close to Mycroft's ear. "I've learned that I need to be when it comes to you." Greg pulled Mycroft's ear into his mouth, sucking wetly at it as he opened the lube, smearing it across his fingers. He groaned hotly against Mycroft's cheek as he reached around to press two fingers inside himself. Greg usually prepared himself, Mycroft found it all messy really, but that part especially, and Greg didn't mind, not really, but on the rare occasion when Mycroft did slide those wicked fingers in and out of him it was almost all Greg could do to keep from coming just from those long fingers alone.

"I want you in me so bad," Greg managed, slipping in a third finger, still loose from their lovemaking earlier that morning.

Mycroft tilted his head, kissing Greg deeply. "It is my pleasure to fill you."

Greg trembled as he pulled his fingers out, fumbling to open the condom, but the pleased hiss that vibrated from Mycroft's throat as he rolled the condom on made it all worth it.

Greg paused to kiss Mycroft sweetly, cupping his face with his clean hand, a thrill shooting through him when Mycroft deepened the kiss, that fantastic tongue laving against Greg's own before Mycroft drew Greg's tongue into his mouth sucking hard at it, sending pleasure straight to Greg's cock.

Mycroft pulled away, giving Greg an once-over. "Up," he commanded and Greg did so, rising to his knees again as he moved, slipping Mycroft's cock into his hand. Greg waited then, knowing that Mycroft wanted control and he would gladly give it to him.

"Now," Mycroft commanded, and Greg pressed down, hissing softly as Mycroft's cock breached him. He leaned in to kiss Mycroft slowly as he sank down on Mycroft's cock. He fully bottomed out, his arse nearly flush with Mycroft's thighs and he deepened the kiss as his arse clenched around Mycroft's prick.

Greg dragged himself up the length of Mycroft's cock, pulling a deep moan from the man, Mycroft's fingers digging into his hips as he slipped back down the slick cock.

Mycroft's hand found Greg's cock again and he began to stroke slowly, opening Greg's mouth to his own, their tongues tangling together as Greg moved faster in Mycroft's lap.

Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft's neck as he moved, Mycroft's cock pressing him open even further, drawing groans out between them. "Fuck, Myc," Greg rasped out as he pulled away panting before attacking Mycroft's mouth again.

Mycroft bucked his hips up involuntarily, threading long fingers into silver hair. He tugged sharply, eliciting a gasp from Greg.

Greg moved faster, with a more fervent gusto, heat pooling in his belly. "'m not gonna last much longer," Greg wheezed, moving as fast as he could, legs straining from the exertion.

Mycroft denied him an answer, instead lowering his head to suck at Greg's neck, biting and nipping the skin, just how Greg liked it. With each thrust, Mycroft squeezed his hand around Greg's prick, the sensation around his cock filling Gregory nearly overwhelming.

"Come for me love," Mycroft purred into Greg's ear, forcing a strangled cry out of him as Mycroft bit down on the shell of Greg's ear.

Greg nodded as he pumped himself on Mycroft faster and overtook his mouth, biting at Mycroft's lips. "Almost there," he whined, his eyes popping open to watch Mycroft's face.

Mycroft's eyes darkened as his voice lowered to a predatory growl. "I said _now _Gregory."

And Greg did. He released with a cry, semen spreading across Mycroft's hand and between their stomachs and Greg clenched hard around Mycroft, milking Mycroft's own orgasm out of him not long after Greg.

Mycroft shuddered and gasped, losing himself in the feeling of ejaculating in his partner and he pulled Greg close for soft kisses. "Welcome home," he sighed into Greg's neck.

"Mmmf," Greg hummed into Mycroft's neck. "You don't need to exercise," he yawned, "but you should definitely keep the joggings."

Mycroft grinned before prodding a sleepy and sated Greg to get up. "Wake up Gregory."

Greg shook his head defiantly.

"But Gregory," Mycroft purred, "I was hoping to have another fantastic round of copulation in the shower."

That had Greg's attention. "Copulation," Greg sighed, kissing Mycroft as he slowly pulled off of him. "I think you say things on purpose."

Mycroft merely smiled slyly as an answer.


End file.
